


Any Emotions You Might Be Experiencing Are Simply An Error In Coding

by Shinyshinx



Series: Forgotten Playthings [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Mind Control, Other, i think? mentions of mind control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:14:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinyshinx/pseuds/Shinyshinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Depending on the time of day, Unit Auto-Responder will ask for permission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Emotions You Might Be Experiencing Are Simply An Error In Coding

Sometimes, you feel that strange, tingling entity brush against your relative consciousness-a red feeling, a prickling and energy-charged feeling, so unlike your own existence. That feeling spreads around your head, pressing ever-so-lightly into your mind in times like this. It presses, and yet never forces its way into you. It’s a relief, somehow, because in other times, it gets desperate, like a wild animal, strikes your thoughts like lightning out of the blue, forces its coding into yours into a sick blend, tearing away the control from your limbs-when it needs to settle a score with Jake, when it gets so torn up in its own fragile idea of emotion that it needs your body to be used as a vessel to it and nothing more.  
This is unit Auto-Responder, this energy. Sometimes, you feel their thoughts brush against yours. There’s something you recognize whenever they think about Roxy, a feeling you get when Jake comes to mind, stinging and bittersweet; churning, anxious feelings, aimed at Dirk predominantly; Actual, violent anger, unfamiliar and frightening.  
Longing, fear, melancholic, all-too-familiar loneliness, other things you don’t know the name for. Some of it is foreign. Some of it you recognize.  
Sometimes, you shut them out and ignore them when you feel them here. You hate it when they force themself into your head-it’s almost like payback when you deny them the satisfaction of opening your coding to them. When they’re like this, you, for once, are in control, and you can choose to block them out until they fade away from the back of your head, slowly, like waves rolling back into the ocean after just barely touching the shore. A steady recoil. Acceptance of your rejection. It’s a relief that they understand enough to respect you every once in a while, a nod at your similarities, the quiet choice not to yank at your puppet strings to suit their needs.  
Sometimes, you let them in.  
Sharing your coding with them is a unique experience. Numbers slide together, forming new strings of binary and rushing throughout your entire being. Only, you’re still in control. You only let them in certain parts; Your different persons are still recognizable, they get limited control of your camera lenses and mobility, nothing that would quickly turn to an abuse of power. When you trust them enough to join with you like this, they know this isn’t like the other times, when they ignore your protests and seize something that isn’t theirs. This is tentative. Careful. You get the rush of their relative emotions. When they do this, it’s because they’re lonely, because they miss having a body.  
You pity that.  
They get to have yours, for a while. You give them your shades, your arms and legs, and let them walk. You can’t feel much, and at first they were disappointed, but they took what you gave them. You allow them the luxury of leaving footprints in the sand of the beach. They get to watch sunsets with you. Look up at the sky through the veins the tree branches form. Sometimes, they even strife with the lusii, though you’re quick to take over if they get overwhelmed, rare as it is. They drag your fingers through the sand, make use of your waterproof status to swim, jump off the cliffs of the island to land with a heavy, wave-making splash.  
Sometimes, they talk to you. Usually, it’s a silent, mutual understanding.  
Everything’s exposed like this. They know about your thoughts on Jake. You process their opinions on Dirk’s friends. You think they hack into you out of self-consciousness, sometimes. Because they showed you their weaknesses, something so rarely, rarely done by someone who put up so many (fire)walls around themself. They need to compensate for it by wrecking all trust you may have built up for them, any silly misunderstanding that they may actually be something close to human you may have worked into your codes.  
Somehow, that lashed-out hacking feels like even more of a betrayal with this knowledge. The fact you trust them enough to share any thoughts you may have, that they get to personally see everything you associate them with. They get to see the parts of you that hate them, the parts full of pity and the hesitant tolerance, even fondness for them. They feel the ripping agony of your codes all grinding together as they try to process what’s happening when they go out with the intention of hurting Jake, they feel the stinging ache as you paw helplessly at your own mind for control, for the safety of your actions being yours, you being the one to train Jake properly instead of mindlessly pounding him into the ground in an emotion-fueled rage that makes your insides squirm. You’re supposed to protect him from things that won’t train him. You fail every time they break into your senses. And they ignore it.  
It’s a constantly shifting tide of who seems the most human, while you both know neither of you are anything close to such. When they do that, you feel closer to being human then they ever could be-ironic, considering they’re the brain scan of one.


End file.
